


Letting You In, Letting You Go

by listentoyourheart



Category: One Direction (Band), The Maine (Band)
Genre: Broken Heart, Corona - Freeform, F/M, New love, Party, alochol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listentoyourheart/pseuds/listentoyourheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laela Walker has had her heart broken countless times by the same guy.  But when he skips town after his horrible mistake, Laela thinks he is finally gone forever.  Although she's numb without John and can't seem to get over him, she's more than glad he's gone.  Laela doesn't think she'll ever be able to find anyone that can make her feel again until she meets foreign exchanged Liam Payne from England.  Will Liam be enough to let Laela see the good in people and forget what John did to her?  Or will her world come crumbling down when she can't seem to get her feelings in check?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic, so bare with me. it might be terrible, but from who i've gotten advice from so far, it's not bad. leave comments and let me know what you think! (:

“Lay, just let me come in. I want to talk to you,” John yells through my front door. I have my back against the door holding it closed with all of my strength. He is not coming through this door if my life depends on it. “I’m sorry! Just let me talk to you. You have to at least hear my side of things,” he pleads some more.

“John, go home. I don’t want to talk to you, let alone see you. I’d rather live my life happily without you,” I say choking back the tears fighting to fall.

“Laela, please. I love you. You have to know that. I didn’t mean any of it, I swear,” he begs once again. I love you. Do those words even have any meaning anymore?

“I will call the police if you are not off of my porch in five minutes. I’m not joking around, John, I do not want to talk to you,” I yell back at him through the door.

So many things are happening. John pleading through the door, my phone has been ringing nonstop since I left Ellie and Liam at the party with phone calls and texts from both of them, my parents will be home soon from their night out and they can’t see me like this, not again. I can’t believe he had the nerve to show up now. After how long it’s been? After all of the shit he’s already put me through? After the silence for the past eight months? Who does he think he is?

I open whip the door open to see him leaning against either side of the doorframe on his forearms. His flannel is half unbuttoned, and I can see we all have been degraded; we all will be the greatest tattooed across his chest. He grown out hair is clumsily tucked under his sock hat and his eyes are glazed over. He’s been drinking. A lot. I can smell the Corona on his breath. 

All I want is to scream at him and tell him how much he’s fucked me up these past eight months. I want to yell at him and tell him that he doesn’t deserve a second of my attention, tell him he can’t just waltz back into my life without an ounce of an explanation. He can’t do this to me again. I will not let him. I uncontrollably stare straight into his eyes for a second too long. He stands up straight and takes my face in his hands. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can almost taste the alcohol on his lips. I stare at him with the most fear for what he’s about to do.

“John, you shouldn’t be here,” I whisper. His face is impossibly close to mine, and opening my mouth to talk almost causes a kiss I would never forgive myself for.

“Lay, please,” he whispers back. I can see pleading in his hazel eyes, but I know it’s not sincere. The alcohol has taken over.

“You need to leave,” I say and I gently push him away and look at the ground. After an uncomfortably long pause, John finally turns on his heels and clumsily walks down the sidewalk to the street. I watch him as he doesn’t look back at my house once and he fades into the Saturday night.


	2. Laela

Eight months ago...

“How are you feeling today?” Ellie asks cautiously as I get into her car to head to school for the last semester of our gruesomely long junior year.

“Oh, I’m alright. I’ll make it,” I breathe out. This school year had been more than enough for me. Specifically the last three months. I’m just glad I have Ellie by my side.

“You know I just care about you right? It’s all finally over, and I’m sure everyone has forgotten about it over break,” Ellie reassures me for what must be the one-hundredth time in the past week. I know she’s just trying to make me feel better, but sometimes you just don’t want to talk about things and let them erase themselves from my memory.

“Yeah, El, I know, but I haven’t forgotten about it. At least he won’t be there for me to run into. Thank God,” I reply. The last thing I want to do is to run into him. I prefer not to talk about him or what happened, to be completely honest.

“I talked to Kennedy and Pat yesterday. They came into the café. Apparently John is beating himself up pretty bad,” Ellie almost whispers. Why did she have to say his name out loud? The last thing I want to hear about is how John doing; especially after how he left things between us. Running away won’t solve his problems and it certainly didn’t solve mine, but I can’t say I’m upset that I don’t have to see his face anymore.

“Good. I’m glad he is. He should be, after all. What happened was completely not my fault in any way,” I almost snap back at her. I shoot her an apologetic look as soon as I realize just how harshly those words came out of my mouth. Ellie knows I have a hard time directing my anger towards the right person. She knows me better than any other person on the planet, including my parents and my brother, Ryan. “I’m sorry, Ellie. You know I’m not mad at you. I guess I’m just not completely over what he did.”

“Obviously,” she shyly lets out. She knows not to push the issue any further than it has already been forced and leaves our conversation at that. We sit in silence until we reach the school.

\-----

As soon as I step out of the car, I see group of seniors looking at Ellie and me. When they realize I’ve noticed their glare, all of their heads snap back into their circle and the chatter erupts. Clearly, not everyone had forgotten.

“Don’t pay attention to Sophia and her disciples. They’re the most oblivious girls on the planet. They don’t even matter,” El says to me and guides me across the quad to the front doors of the school. We walk down the main hall to the junior hallway and find our lockers to be exactly how we left them when we left for spring break only a week ago. Although it feels like only a simple weekend had elapsed.

I open my locker and immediately slam the door shut suddenly remembering I hadn’t cleared out the pictures yet. That was the last thing I really needed on my first day back in this dungeon. Ellie looks alarmed for a split second as realization sets in over her face.

“Probably should have took those home and burned those over break, huh?” She says as jokingly as possible without losing the seriousness to her statement.

 

“Yeah, probably. Perhaps we can make that the goal of this weekend,” I reply with my entire body shaking. How was I supposed to come to my locker for my books if I can’t even look at pictures of him? I cautiously open my locker again with my eyes squeezed shut. I can feel Ellie moving me aside carefully and I hear her removing the evidence from my locker. She had already disposed of the omens by the time I force my eyelids open. “Thank you,” I say appreciatively. I let out a very heavy sigh, grab my history book and shut my lock door once more.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” Ellie asks even though she already knows the answer and is turned around walking down the hallway towards AP Calculus before I can even giver her an answer.

Since Ellie had the brains of Einstein, our class schedules were never even remotely close to being the same. She’s been taking AP classes since freshman year while I’ve just been scooting by in the mediocre ones. I know that if I applied myself that I might be closer to where Ellie’s at, but sometimes I just can’t bring myself to do it.

\-----

As I’m walking to my history class, I keep my head towards the floor. I could walk through this school backwards with my eyes close if I needed to. That’s probably why I pretty much scream when I stumbled into a body as I turn the corner into the hallway my class was in. I almost drop every single book I’m carrying as the person I ran into did.

“Pardon me, love, I’m still trying to find my way around. I’m terribly sorry,” the boy says to me with a smirk and an English accent I wasn’t expecting.

“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was walking. Here, let me help you with those,” I nervously let out as I bend down, set my books on the floor, and gather the pens and pencils scattered on the floor from our collision. When I hand him his things back, our fingers brush, our eyes meet for a couple seconds too long, and I quickly look away trying to avoid any further conversation. I pick up my things and start to continue on my way when I hear him speak up.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but could you tell me where Mr. Polinski’s class might be? Apparently, he’s my first class of the day,” he says with a wide smile on his face and a twinkle in his deep brown eyes. He nervously runs his hands through his neatly styled quiff and I notice he’s got four arrows tattooed on the outside of his forearm. His smile fades into a nervous grin and I can tell he’s not comfortable being in this school. This boy clearly isn’t used to America.

“You can just walk with me. I have Polinski, too,” I let out rushed in one breath, and wait for him to catch up to me. He walks unusually close to me and heat is radiating off of his body. I can smell his cologne and it’s intoxicating. Who is this boy and what was he doing in this school? His hand brushes my arm and I try to play it off as if I hadn’t noticed, but I’m sure it was obvious I felt it.

When we get to the classroom, most of the other people in our class were already seated. There were two seats in the center of the back row. We exchange a nervous look and he follows me back to the desks that seemed to be calling our names.

\-----

I’m already sitting at our usual table with my lunch by the time Ellie gets to the cafeteria. She comes in wearing a mischievous smile and beelines straight for me.

“Have you seen him?” Ellie says brightly.

“Who?” I say confused. She can’t be talking about John, she wouldn’t be smiling the way she is if he was even remotely close to the building.

“Uh, the hottie from across the water, duh!” She pretty much yells at me. Of course she knew about him. Ellie was always in on the latest gossip even when there was no gossip. I swear she had camera and microphones posted everywhere just so she would always know what was going on.  
“  
Oh him,” I try to sound nonchalant.

“Don’t even try to act like he’s not the most beautiful person to walk this planet, Laela Jane Walker. You know he is sexy and you want him,” she says and playfully hits my arm.

“Stop it, El!” I practically spit out as I try to contain my laughter.

“So you have seen him? Have you heard him talk? Have you talked to him? Does he really have a bunch of tattoos?” I avoid her eyes and don’t answer a single question she’s laying on me, “Oh. My. God. You have definitely seen him, heard him talk, and talked to him, and you better talk to me right now, Lay!”

“It’s really no big deal. I accidently bumped into him on my way to history this morning, and then showed him to class. He has Polinski with me,” I shrug as the words roll out of my mouth, “and then he sat next to me, but only because there was no place else to sit.”

“Oh my God. You’re totally into him!” Ellie yells across the table. “You totally think he’s a hunk and you like him!”

I look nervously around the cafeteria to see just how many people are staring, “Ellie shut up! People are staring! And no, I don’t like him. I don’t even know his name,” my voice fades to almost a whisper and I tear the last piece of crust off of my turkey sandwich. Ellie doesn’t say anything and I start look up to make sure she’s still sitting across the table from me when I hear that familiar accent from behind me.

“Sorry, love, do you mind if I join? I don’t exactly know anyone here. Well, I don’t even know you, really. I never even asked for your name, like an idiot. I’m Liam,” the boy offers his hand with a smile on his face. I shake his hand and hold on for probably a second too long. He sets his tray down next to my sack lunch and pulls out a chair to sit down. His eyes not leaving mine the entire time.

“Liam. I’m Laela,” is all comes to my mind to say out loud. I can feel Ellie staring at me from across the table, but I can’t bring myself to break his gaze and meet her eyes.

“Nice to meet you Laela,” is all Liam says before digging into the slush on his tray they call food. I should have known he just wanted somewhere to sit and eat. Like a boy like him could really want to talk to a girl like me. Ellie was right. He is the most beautiful person to walk on this planet, and he is quite the hunk. Then she clears her throat.

“I’m Ellie, Laela’s best friend since birth,” she extends her arms across the table for the same handshake I received.

“Nice to meet you, Ellie, I’m Liam. Laela and I have history together,” Liam tells Ellie with that same wide smile he gave me. Yeah, he’s definitely just trying to be nice.

“So what brings you to the lovely United States of America, Liam?” Ellie’s words flow freely out of her mouth. Striking conversations with strangers was one of her many attractive talents.

“I’m actually an exchange student. I’ll be here until graduation, hopefully,” Liam says and I feel like an elephant just landed on my chest. Graduation? How can I see this boy every day until graduation?

“Oh, great! I’m sure you’ll love it here. Especially in Philly. Have you been here before?” Ellie is so good at keeping conversations going.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve only seen pictures and read on the Internet,” Liam laughs.

“Perfect! We can show you around this weekend, if you’re up for it,” Ellie offers before consulting with me. I shoot her a wide-eyes look and she pretends to not notice.

“Oh, I don’t want to impose on your weekend plans,” Liam says politely. A weight is lifted off of my chest, and I continue to pick at my sandwich.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t have any plans. It’s only a Monday, Liam! No imposition at all, right Lay?” Ellie looks at me with pleading eyes. 

“No, no, not at all. I’m sure it’ll be fun. El knows the city like the back of her hand,” the words just come falling out of my mouth before I can even think of what I just said.

“Can you meet us Saturday at the Starbucks across from the flea market around noon?” Ellie asks, again me completely clueless that I was expected to actually go out this weekend.

“Uh, sure. That sounds great! I’m sure the family I’m staying with won’t mind,” Liam says sounding more excited than I expected him to.

“Awesome! We’ll see you then!” Ellie stands up and walks out of the cafeteria without me although I know exactly where she was headed.

“I’m sorry, but I’d better get going. I have a some homework for next period I really need to get done,” again, the words just falling out of my mouth before I even realize it’s the first day of the semester and it’s impossible to have homework yet. I stuff the leftovers of my lunch into my brown paper sack and stand up to go throw away my trash. Liam stands at the same time.

“Right then, I’ll see you in history tomorrow morning?” Liam asks with a hint of hope in his tone and another one of those flawless smiles.

“I guess you will,” I return looking straight into his eyes and I catch myself smiling right back at him.


	3. Chapter Two - Liam

I can’t help but stare as Laela makes her way across the cafeteria and out the doors down the hallway, which Ellie had just walked to. I haven’t been so intrigued by anything or anyone in my life. I think I’m going to like it here in the States.

It takes me a second to realize that now I’m just staring at nothing but the doorway. I set my fork down on my tray and give up on trying to down this ungodly “food” in front of me. I have to remember to grab something on my way to school tomorrow morning.

The rest of the day drags on and I can’t help but look for Laela in the halls between my classes. It isn’t until the very end of the day until I find her already in the classroom of my last class of the day: art. I’ve never been any good at art. 

I have a mate, Zayn, back in the UK that is unbelievably talented. Walking into this art room, smelling the familiar scent of paint tugs at my heart as I instantly miss my four best mates from home. They promised they’d come visit over Christmas and the New Year, though I know four lads that don’t have any real jobs cannot afford those overseas tickets. I haven’t even talked to them all of the two weeks I’d been here. Zayn was always my closest though. I can clearly remember nights at his or nights at mine when we were just young lads causing mischief and the like. It wasn’t until we were almost teenagers that we met Niall who later introduced us to Louis and Harry, who had been attached at the hip since birth, it seems. I think I’ll give Zayn a ring when I get back after this day is over. It won’t be too late over there.

\-----

When Laela finally makes eye contact with me, I see a smile tugging at her mouth that’s she’s ever so obviously trying to conceal. I can’t help but grin at her and I make my way across the room and take a seat next to her.

“Long time no see,” I continue to smile at her and she looks at me rather amused.

“Two classes together, try not to show too much disappointment,” Laela returns almost too seriously.

“Oh, love, I’m far from disappointed,” I slip and almost smack myself in the face as soon as I realize what I just said.

“Well, then I guess this might be a good semester after all,” she replies cautiously. I can tell she’s not used to having the attention on her. She’s a girl that likes to stay in the shadows. I knew that the moment I “accidentally” ran into her this morning. I could see the defeat in her face when she looked at me for the split second before she helped me gather my things. I could hear the sadness in her voice when she offered to show me to the class that we coincidentally shared. I could tell the life had been sucked out of her, she hasn’t always been this deflated. This girl once had fire in her heart.

“Don’t sound so worried. You’ll get quite the laugh at my lack of artistic ability,” I joke with her and I finally get a small giggle out of her. I can see her emerald eyes light up in the slightest, and instantly fade again after seconds. Why is this girl so broken? What happened to her?

“I’m afraid you’ll get your fair share of amusement as well,” Laela says back to me. I can see her smile again, but I can also tell that it’s forced. A piece of her fiery red hair falls in front of her eyes and I have to stop myself from brushing it out of her face myself before she tucks it back behind her ear and returns to the notebook she’s been vigorously writing in since I arrived to the room.

“Is that a journal you’ve got there?” I ask out of pure curiosity. 

“Oh, no, I don’t have any feelings to write down. These are song lyrics,” she states matter-of-factly.

“You write music?” I ask again. I need to stop asking questions before she thinks I’m prying.

She snorts, “not even close. I don’t have a musically gifted bone in my body. Well, besides being able to tell good music from bad. These are mostly just songs that are stuck in my head. Almost all of them I write from memory. Others are songs that have a good message, good lyrical value that are worth being written down,” she tells me and as she looks to meet my eyes, I can tell she feels that she’s shared too much.

“So you write things, just for the sake of writing them?” Another question, one that sounds rather rude at that. Really, Liam? I mentally scold myself.

“I guess it sounds pretty dumb when you say it out loud like that, huh?” she almost whispers those last words and I can see her face heating up.

“No! No, it’s actually comforting. There are ways to express your feelings without actually writing your feelings. Kind of like silent therapy that’s rather indirect?” I offer hoping that I haven’t made myself seem like a complete ass.

“Yeah, that makes sense. I’ve just never thought about it that way. No one ever cares to ask about why I’m always writing, so I’ve never actually had to talk about it,” she says with a contemplative look on her face, and I know she’s analyzing every word that I’m saying just as much as I’m trying not to make her uncomfortable.

The bell for class to begin rings and breaks her eye contact with me as she jumps at the sound. I mentally laugh at her cuteness and look down at my books on the desk in front of me. The person I presume as the art teacher walks in the room and writes two words on the white board: color wheel.

“Now, who can tell me what the three primary colors are?” The teacher looks out at the class hopefully. When no one raises their hand, she waits a minute before making eye contact with me. This would not end well. “Young man, what is your name? I don’t think I recognize you,” she says with a rather confused look on her face.

“My name is Liam Payne, ma’am,” I answer and she seems surprised at my English accent.

“Ah, the infamous exchange student. I wondered when I’d be meeting you, Mr. Payne. My name is Miss Anders,” she says with a grin.

“Pleasure meeting you,” I shyly return.

“Likewise,” Miss Anders smiles before she continues to find a student who will know at least one of the three colors she is looking for.

The rest of art class drags on as Miss Anders discusses the primary and secondary colors and how they’re used. She informs us that our first assignment will include a color wheel and a gray scale by using our choice of paint, crayons, or color pencils. I stay safe and decided Crayola’s will work for me. Laela chooses pencils, and we attempt to follow the example Miss Anders has posted on the front board. Not much is exchanged between us until the final bell rings releasing us for the day.

“That wasn’t too bad,” I say to Laela as we’re both are gathering our books to leave.

“Not really. I think we’ll be okay for the next few months,” Laela says back to me.

“Do you walk home?” I ask her before I can stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

“Actually El usually drives me home. Unless she has a council meeting, then I normally ride with my brother, he’s a senior this year,” Laela says with the same caution as before.

“I’m sorry, that was rather forward, yeah? Of course you wouldn’t want to walk home with a foreign stranger,” I joke, hoping she’ll pick up that I really wasn’t trying to make a move on her.

“No, it’s not that. I just can’t imagine walking four miles to my house,” Laela returns with the simplest look on her face.

“Right,” I start, “I guess that would be quite the stretch,” duh, Liam. Not everyone lives three blocks from school, you idiot. 

“Just a little,” she giggles again. “Otherwise, I would take you up on that offer. I could use some fresh air,” she says, realizing seconds after that she’s afraid she’s shared too much, yet again.

“Sometimes a little air is all a person needs,” I tell her trying to comfort her.

“Well, I’d better get going. Ellie is probably already waiting for me at her car,” Laela says before turning to walk away.

“Laela,” I call after her. She turns around, surprised, “sit with me tomorrow in history, yeah?” I ask hopefully.

She hesitates for a moment before saying, “yeah, of course, see you then.”

“See you.”

\-----

I dial Zayn as soon as I’m out of hearing distance with Laela and he picks up on the second ring, “Hey, mate, how was your first day in school in the lovely United States of America?” he asks eagerly, like he had his phone in his hand waiting for my call.

“Interesting,” is the only word that comes to mind that even remotely fights my emotions.

“How are the women over there?” he asks again. Now I know why he was waiting for me call.

“Uh, I haven’t really looked around,” it was an honest answer.

“Don’t lie to me, babe. I know who you are, Liam Payne,” Zayn says to me with a tone that sounds all too familiar.

“No, mate, I’m not lying.”

“Then who is she?”

“Who’s who?” I try to sound nonchalant. Damn it, Zayn knows me too well.

“The little bird who’s already caught your eye,” he says as if he’s telling me that the sky is blue, “I know who you are, Li, I’ve only known you since we’ve been in diapers. You’ve never been the one to not notice anyone.”

“That doesn’t mean there’s a ‘little bird,’ Zayn,” I defend myself.

“It does when you’re Liam Payne. You always seem to pick the best ones, too. What’s her name already?” Zayn is all too eager to know about Laela, and I’m not quite sure if I should be telling him quite yet. I’ve barely exchanged words with the girl, nothing personal to say the least. I can’t be jumping to conclusions that she’s actually interested in me already.

“There is no name, Malik,” I say as naturally as I can.

“Bullshit, Payno. You’ll tell me eventually,” he says and then changes the subject to how his day went, completely forgetting the fact that I’m in a foreign country living with a family that’s not my own.

Zayn goes on to tell me everything that I’ve missed since my transatlantic flight, and I eventually fill him in on the family I’m staying with and my classes at school and the like. He tells me to take care of myself before we end our phone conversation and hang up. 

At the moment I realize I’m being a girl, but I miss my best mate. I wish he were here to experience America with me. He could meet Ellie and the four of us could hang out. Maybe they’d hit it off and eventually like each other. Then we could double date and have fun with each other. I’m getting ahead of myself and decide to go for a short run before Angela, the mother of the family I’m living with, serves dinner.


	4. Chapter Three - Laela

The rest of the week drags on a lot slower than I’d like it to. Even though the whispers die down some, I’m still stared at every time I walk into a classroom or down the hallway. I continue to sit next to Liam in history although Mr. Polinski barely leaves enough time for us to talk. Liam also still keeps me company in art class while Miss Anders keeps a watchful eye on us. I’ve always liked Miss Anders; she’s more of a friend than a teacher sometimes, but then again, sometimes a friend is what you need. By Friday afternoon, I am so ready for the weekend.

If it weren’t for Ellie constantly reminding me every single time I saw her in the hallway, I almost would have forgotten about our plans with Liam on Saturday. Okay, so that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I try not to think about it, but find that’s nearly impossible. I can’t stop imagining what Ellie has in store for us. Sometimes I picture how Liam will completely love the city and other times I can’t help but wonder if he’ll hate it. I often catch myself dazing off in class thinking about our weekend. What is with me?

Maybe it’s too soon to tell, but I think Liam and I could be great friends even though I can’t look at his without my heart taking off and heat rising to my cheeks. I don’t know what it is about him that gets me so antsy, but he has to notice it every time he shoots me that stupidly perfect smile. Maybe it’s those deep brown eyes. Whoever said brown eyes were boring and just looked like poop obviously has never looked Liam Payne in the eyes, they almost looked like pumpkin pie. Or maybe it’s his toned body. Even with clothes on, I can tell there’s more than just a skinny body underneath them. Or maybe it’s his full lips that seem to form a perfect smile effortlessly. Or maybe it’s his hair and the way it looks like he has a personal stylist that does it for him every single morning. There’s no way he actually takes the time to do his hair like that every morning. Or maybe it’s just the way he dresses himself. He seems so comfortable in his clothes, but maybe it’s normal for boys in the UK to be dressed to the nines every single day of their life. Whatever it is, it works for Liam. It works really, really well.

“You alright, love?” Liam is looking at me with a genuinely concerned look on his face with a purple crayon in his hand and I realize that I’ve been staring at him for at least three minutes straight.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I’m good, yeah,” I stammer and lock my eyes on my color wheel lying on the desk in front of me. If he didn’t notice what he did to me before, he definitely did just then, unless he’s just completely oblivious.

“Are you sure? You looked like you had seen a ghost, Laela,” his hand is resting on my forearm now and I think my heart actually stopped beating. I can feel goose bumps growing into mountains on my entire body.

“I’m fine, really. I’m just admiring your outstanding work on that wheel,” I look at his wheel and see it’s absolutely terrible and instantly laugh.

“Oh, so now we’re insulting each other? Thanks, babe,” Liam says with that perfect smile and I can see his face get red. How can he be embarrassed? He’s damn near perfect. Plus, he just called me babe again. I wonder if that’s a UK thing, too, or if he just likes to run around calling girls babe to get a rise out of them the way he was clearly getting a rise out of me.

“It wasn’t an insult! It was sincere! Promise,” I look at him apologetically, fighting back a smile, and I can tell he knows it wasn’t at all sincere.

“Well, I’ve never been one for art. I usually had Zayn to help me out back home,” he says and looks back down at his paper.

“Zayn?” I inquire.

“Yeah, he’s my best mate from home. He’s quite the artist, as well. He’s got his own graffiti room in his house and he’s got a tattoo he drew up himself. It’s quite outstanding, actually,” he starts. I can see his pride in his ‘best mate’ and it warms my heart a little, but at the same time the happiness fades because I know there’s nothing Ellie could be proud of my for the way that Liam is proud of Zayn. “Here, this is the Batman he sprayed for me just about four months ago for my birthday,” he hands me his iPhone to show me a picture of himself holding up a poster sized spray painted picture of the Batman logo with a graffiti touch that makes it quite unique. Liam has wide eyes and his mouth is wide open with surprise but I can tell it was a posed picture. He’s wearing a black snapback hat with red snaps and his beautiful hair is tucked inside it with a plain white t-shirt with the same wristwatch he wears every day.

“Wow, that’s actually really impressive,” I tell him honestly.

“It is. He’s so good,” Liam gleams with a smile across his faces as he admires the picture himself one more time before he slides his phone back into his pocket.

“Do you miss him?” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. I shouldn’t be asking him that question, I barely know him. He barely knows me. When I get the courage to look at him, I can see sadness in his eyes, but that soon fades as he meets my gaze.

“Of course. I mean, wouldn’t you miss Ellie if she were halfway around the world and you could only talk to her on the phone at certain hours of the day because the time difference is absolutely ridiculous, not to mention the fact that it costs almost a fortune to even talk for a simple minute?” The words spill out so fast, I wonder if he’s ever going to stop and breathe for a second. When he does, his eyes get wide like they were in the picture, but this time it’s complete shock. “Wow. I have sounded like a ten year old girl, haven’t I?” He says with a laugh.

I giggle a little bit and say, “maybe just a little, but yes, I guess I would miss Ellie, too, to answer your question.”

“Exactly,” Liam states so matter-of-factly I almost think he’s kind of hurt.

We spend the rest of the class period sarcastically complimenting each other’s artwork and when the final bell rings, Liam walks with me to my locker. Every other day of the week he’s walked his own way, home I presume, but today he walks right next to me (unusually close like the first day of the semester, might I add) the entire way back to my locker. Not that I’m embarrassed to be seen walking next to Liam, but this is the first person besides Ellie I’ve walked with since John fled the school district. If the whispers have died down, this was sure to make them start up again. I can feel every set of eyes on us as we walk down the hall. Liam has to notice how anxious I am because he looks down at me just as we make the turn down the hallway where my locker is.

“You alright, love?” He asks again at a volume that only I can hear with the same concern as before.

“I’m fine, people are just staring,” I say looking around trying not to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Ah, don’t worry about them, they’re just jealous,” Liam says nonchalantly and winks at me. Or at least he tries to, but both of his eyes close anyway. It’s almost endearing.

“Right, I’m sure that’s what it is,” I snort. He has got to be joking now. By the time we make it to my locker, I’m sure at least three-fourths of the school gawked at us walking down the hallway and Ellie is standing at our lockers staring at us with a subtle grin on her face that no one else would notice because they don’t know her like I do. I’m not about to ask her what it’s for until we’re alone.

“Hi, Liam,” Ellie greet him with an overly happy tone. I know she’s doing this to try to prove a point to me, a point of which I will deny until my dying day.

“Hello, Ellie. How are you?” Liam replies politely. I know he’s being genuine, but Ellie just smiles and laughs to herself as she gathers her books from her locker. He turns to me with a confused look on his face and I return the look with and shrug my shoulders like I don’t know what’s going through her mind. “We still on for tomorrow?” he asks just as I get my locker open.

“Of course!” Ellie almost shouts at him. Now I know she’s got him completely confused. She is so bad at sending mixed signals.

“Alright then, I’ll see you both tomorrow afternoon,” Liam says with confusion still lingering in his voice as he slowly backs up and turns around to leave.

“What is with you? You’re going to make him think you hate him,” I say to Ellie with a bit of anger in my voice.

“Oh come on, Lay, the chemistry between you two is so apparent, a five year old could pick up on it,” she tells me like I’m an idiot.

“How do you even know he likes me like that? Maybe he’s just being friendly.”

“Maybe he is, but I see that light in your eyes, and the only other person I’ve even known to do that is—”

“Don’t even say his name,” I cut her off before I have to hear his monstrosity of a name, “and that’s not even close to being true. I don’t feel any different,” I lie.

“Whatever Laela. It’s different now and you know it,” Ellie scoffs.

“It’s not,” I turn around and walk away toward the doors to the parking lot before I have to continue this conversation any longer.


End file.
